Twilight in the Hollow
by DoTheImpossible
Summary: Gilmore Girls meets Twilight. Read to find out, there's too much to explain.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Twilight In The Hollow

Rating: T

Summary: Gilmore Girls meets Twilight. Read to find out; too much to explain.

Setting: Chilton Junior Year

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing…also some ideas and lines in this fic will be taken from the show and the Twilight Saga…once again I own nothing.

AN: I have recently obsessed with Twilight and thought about Tristan being a vampire. I love Edward and I love Tristan so let's see if I can morph those two characters into one.

I am extremely nervous to be posting this, but I am also very anxious to know what everyone thinks. This is basically Gilmore Girls meets Twilight. Tristan is a vampire and his family is the Cullens…all the Cullens are here except for Edward. Even though I absolutely love Edward I couldn't have him in here because he is such a strong character and I couldn't have both him and Tristan.

So this will be a TRORY. Hopefully this isn't a disappointment. Read on and let me know exactly what you think.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

My life sucks.

Or at least that's what most people would say. I don't understand why they would say that. I mean, my life is my life. I don't see anything wrong with it and I don't see anything extraordinary about it. I repeat: my life is just that…my life.

Okay, so maybe I can see where people might be under the impression that my life "sucks". I'm a seventeen-year-old junior.

That isn't the bad part.

The bad part would be that I'm a junior in high school leaving my current high school, Stars Hollow High, in the middle of my second semester and enrolling in a private high school where rich snotty teenagers would surround me.

That's the bad part, that's where it starts to suck.

It sucks leaving the comforts of my average high school; it sucks not seeing my friends every day. It sucks that I have to now wear a uniform!

But there's not much that I can do.

I'm the type of person that let's whatever is…is.

Besides, I technically can't complain because the suckiness of my life is balanced out by the extraordinary stuff.

For instance, my mom is awesome! How many teenage girls can say that their moms are totally and utterly unbelievably cool?

She's not only my mom, but she's also my best friend.

Another extraordinary thing about my life is that my family is an amazing support system. My grandparents are okay people; they always mean well…even if my mom doesn't see it that way. If it weren't for them paying for the tuition for Chilton, I wouldn't be one step closer to my dream; Harvard.

But now I'm just getting off track.

Today is my first day at a preppy school in the middle of the second semester of my junior year of high school.

I'm ready.

Really.

I am.

I look myself over in the mirror.

Damn!

My mom got to the skirt. I thought I hid it well, but I guess she sniffed it out and altered it…shorter.

I can't do anything about it now. I just let it roll off my shoulders and head out the house to the jeep.

My mom was nice enough to let me use it for my first day. She said and I quote, 'It's not cool making your appearance by coming off a bus!' Unquote.

Anyways, I shake my head at my mom's insanity and I get in the jeep and make my way to hell. Once again, those are my mom's words, not mine.

I haven't decided if this change was a good thing or a bad thing. For now, its just Chilton, but it could very much become hell…

* * *

As soon as I arrived at Chilton and everyone's eyes were on me, I decided that this place was in fact hell. My mom's jeep stood out like a soar thumb among all the Mercedes, Lexus's, Porches and all the other luxury cars. I deducted that if there was anyone in the school who wasn't from money, they probably took the bus.

I should have taken the bus.

But whatever, it's too late now.

I grab my backpack from the passenger's seat, shut the door and make my way inside hell to the main office. There, the short stuck-up lady sitting behind an over-sized desk, hands me a load of papers: the Chilton handbook, my locker and its combination and my class schedule.

I look over my schedule as she's ranting about something…not sure exactly what she's talking about, but I smile and nod occasionally. I decide that my schedule isn't half bad.

The only thing that "sucked" about it was that I had gym. That's not good. I'm a hazard.

But besides that, I had no problems.

After exiting the main office, I wasn't sure if the lady behind the big desk had stopped talking, but after leaving the office I located my locker. It wasn't easy, but hopefully I pulled off what I was trying to do and that was to make it seem effortless and careless.

I spin the combination in and lift the little handle to pop it open, but it doesn't pop. I slightly glare at the locker. I spin in the combination again and I tug the handle a little bit harder, but nothing. I fully glare at the locker. Stupid locker.

I promised myself that I wouldn't talk to inanimate objects on the first day…but I was desperate.

I got really close to the little metal door and kindly whispered, "Please open up," I stroked it gently, "If you do, I'll feed you some yummy books."

Mentally crossing my fingers, I spun the combination and tugged.

This was a stubborn locker; it still didn't open.

I was about to punch the stupid thing, but someone beat to it.

As the guys fist came in contact with my locker, it popped open. I turned to thank the guy, but he kept walking past me with his arm draped over a beautiful blonde.

"Thanks," I call out to him; I couldn't be rude on my first day.

The muscular guy just lifts his free hand and waves without looking back.

At least he didn't completely ignore me.

I refocused my attention on my stupid stubborn locker and shoved the books that I wasn't going to be needing, making sure that I hurt the locker as I did so.

Throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I shut my locker and was going to try and find my way to my first period class, English, but before I could even take a step, there are a trio of girls blocking my way.

"You must be Rory Gilmore," the shortest out of the three girls says to me. I refrain from rolling my eyes at her condescending tone.

"I must be."

"I'm Paris Gellar," she introduces herself as if it wasn't suppose to matter to me. She then points to the blonde next to her who was smiling, actually no, she wasn't smiling, she was smirking, "This is Louise and that's Madeline," she lastly points to the raven-haired girl who was really perky.

"Hi," Madeline excitedly says; she seems nice.

"Are you guys the welcome committee or something?" I just couldn't help but say.

"Funny," Paris snorts, "Small-town girl's got wit."

"I would like to think so," I shrug.

Paris looks me over, almost as if she was analyzing me, "You're not a bimbo."

I chuckle, this girl was funny, "You don't beat around the bush."

She cracks the tiniest smile…ever, "The bush never did anything to me."

"So what's your first class?" Louise spoke up for the first time.

I scan my schedule, "English literature with Medina," I tell them.

"Us too," Madeline was still smiling; her cheeks must be killing her, "Come on, you can walk with us."

I smile gratefully, "Thanks."

So far so good.

* * *

It's the sixth period of the day and I have lunch. The three girls and I took a seat at their usual table. We made small talk. They asked how my classes were. English was good, History was okay, Trig was annoying, fourth period I had study hall and my journalism class was cool.

After lunch I had biology and then after that, I had gym. I just prayed I wouldn't hurt anyone or worse…kill them.

We were peacefully eating lunch as a group of people, five to be exact, caught my attention. They were gorgeous, a bit pale, but gorgeous and they were walking…no, strutting into the cafeteria.

"Who are they?" I curiously asked the girls.

They turned to look at who I was talking about. Louise's eyes lit up. She spoke; it seemed as if this was her area of expertise, "Those are the Cullens," she started off. "Their 'father' is a doctor at Hartford Memorial and he and his wife are like foster parents. The weird thing is that they are all like together--"

"They're not blood related or anything," Maddie cut her off.

Louise rolled her eyes, "Yeah, but they live together. Anyways that big one, with all the muscles, that's Emmett."

I recognized him; he was the one who helped me with my locker situation.

"The blonde one that is like permanently attached to his side is Rosalie," Louise continued. I spotted a hint of jealousy in her voice, "The small brunette is Alice, she's pretty, but weird…really weird and the guy next to her who looks like he's in pain is her boyfriend, Jasper."

A lone Cullen trailed behind the matched-off pairs.

"And that's Tristan," she whispered as he made his way past out table, "Completely gorgeous, but completely not interested. Don't like waste your time," she tells me. It seemed as if she got shot down a few time. Louise continued, "No one is good enough."

I looked at Tristan, he must have pretty high standards.

Before he completely passed out table I could swear there was a smirk playing on his luscious lips.

"Anyways," Louise began to wrap up, "They moved here two years ago from like Alaska or something. They all keep to themselves. They don't talk to anyone and no one talks to them. That's just the way it is."

Story time was over and the girls went back to eating.

I, on the other hand, was intrigued. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over my shoulders to scan the Cullen's table.

They were all gorgeous; models.

My eyes wandered over to Tristan. His shoulders were slumped and he was staring at his joined hands that were resting in front of him on the table. It seemed as if he was whispering something to his family and he was intently listening to something.

His eyes then snap up and connect with mine.

I'm stuck, frozen. I can't look away.

We stare at each other for a while as if we were searching each other's eyes for unspoken words. It was awkward, but also at the same time, it was intense.

Tristan then suddenly frowns and turns away from me, breaking our connection.

I blush and face the group and slowly ease my way into the conversation that was taking place.

* * *

I stepped foot into my Biology class and I automatically scan the faces…why? I have no idea. Maybe because I wanted to see if I recognized anyone that was in any of my other class….

Maybe it was to see if _he_ was in it.

I don't know why I cared, but I did.

I scanned the classroom and noticed that each lab table had two occupants, every one but one. Tristan Cullen occupied a table all on his own.

Avoiding eye contact with him I made my way to the front of the class and got the necessary books that I would need from the teacher. He then assigned me my seat.

The empty one next to Tristan.

What a shocker.

As I was making my way to my seat I noticed that Tristan tensed up. He was so tense that he was almost rigid.

I slowly sat down and glanced at him, it looked as if he was in physical pain.

This was really uncomfortable. Embarrassing almost.

I let my hair fall so that it was acting as a curtain between Tristan and myself. I must have made the matter worse because the boy next to me jerked suddenly and covered his nose with his hand.

Did I stink?

Discreetly I sniffed myself. I smelled good! Lilacs and Lilies.

For the entire period, Tristan sat as far away from me as he possibly could while still being at the lab table. One hand covered his mouth and nose as his other hand had a death grip of the table.

Poor table.

This was so awkward and uncomfortable.

What is his problem?

It didn't come fast enough, but when the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, I was relieved.

Some, one in particular, more than most.

I didn't have the chance to blink before Tristan bolted up from his seat and nearly sprinted out of the classroom.

I stared after him in confusion and then, I don't know why, but I was furious.

I repeat: what the hell is his problem?

I guess I can think about it during gym.

Gym.

Gym sucks.

* * *

AN: I'm extremely nervous…extremely terrified to post this fic, I've never done anything like this before so don't be too brutal, but be honest!

Please review… I desperately need to know what you think.

Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review, I'm really glad that you enjoyed the first chapter. It makes me a bit nervous seeing that some of you are worried about this fic. I just wanted to assure everyone that I will be taking into consideration any and all advice that you guys give me. I have just had this idea in my head for some time now and I am just playing around with it.

Like I said before, situations from the show and situations from the series will be in this fic, but they will not be just summaries of the television show/book. When I add those things they will be blended into the fic with my own dialogue and ideas.

Hopefully this clears up any doubt that some of you may have for this fic and if it doesn't, I hope you still enjoy.

Anyways enough of my talking…read the next installment and let me know what you think!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"So, you've survived you're first week of hell – wait, you did decide that it was hell right?" My mom's rant began, "I mean, of course it's hell, how can Chilton possibly be any good? Chilton sucks…school sucks…yeah! You're smart enough, you don't need school…drop out. Do what I did; get pregnant and drop out…hey, I turned out fine right?"

I barely heard anything she was saying, I couldn't stop thinking about _him. _I really wanted to, but I couldn't and I don't know why…and I think that's what bugs me the most. The fact that this boy has been on my mind for nearly a week now and I have no freakin' idea why…is pissing the hell out of me!

I haven't even seen him for a week... he hasn't come to school. So I don't get it – shouldn't it be 'out of sight, out of mind'? Pfft! Yeah right!

The day after he was acting all weird, I wanted to talk to him; confront him. I was going to tell him exactly what I thought. I was going to demand what the hell his problem was. Lucky for him he decided not to show up.

Through out the week I saw the members of his family and I was really tempted to ask them where their brother was. I was going to ask them if he suffered from a mental disorder. But then I realized that that would be completely out of line. Who was I to ask those kinds of questions to a bunch of people that I didn't even know?

In the end, I just decided to mind my own business, just like I have for the past seventeen years of my life.

That's the other part that pisses me off. I'm the type of person that minds her own business and the fact that this guy has drawn me into him annoys me. I could care less what people do or think and for some reason I want to know where Tristan has been for the past week and I want to know what he thinks of me…he has to be thinking something or he wouldn't have acted so strange during biology.

All I know is that if Tristan continues to act the way he acted on Monday, I will definitely not be keeping my mouth shut.

"Rory, I really hope your not thinking over what I just said, because trust me kiddo, without that piece of paper saying that you graduated, it will be really hard making a living in today's society," my mom was still going at it, "I mean I know I did it, but it was hard man, I don't want life to be that hard for you. You deserve so much better--"

"Relax mom, I'm not going to become a high school drop out," I reassured her.

"Good…but hey, if you do you can always go to beauty school just like Frenchie did," my mom pointed out.

"Oh! Can we watch Grease?" I love that movie.

"Of course," she beamed, but then added, "As long as you solemnly swear to me that you will not drop out of high school and you will continue your education at a four year university."

I raised my hand, "I solemnly swear."

"Why I think its Grease Lightening!"

* * *

I planned on walking into biology not giving a crap if he was there or not. If he were there it wouldn't bother me and if he weren't there it wouldn't bother me. So basically if Tristan was around or if he wasn't around…it wouldn't bother me.

People say I'm a terrible liar.

So as I walked into biology I _pretended _that if he was or wasn't there, it wouldn't bother me.

To my surprise, he was there. He looked well relaxed, but at the same time he looked nervous and also a tad bit pensive. I just wish I could know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his – but I had to pretend that I didn't care.

I held my head high and walked to my seat as if I didn't want to be bothered with whatever had to happen today in class. I took my assigned seat and threw by book bag on to the desk. After taking the necessary books that was going to be needing for the class I placed my bag on the ground beside my stool.

It took everything that I had in me not to look over to my left and see what the beautiful creature beside me was up to. Without even looking at him I could feel that he wasn't as tense as he was last week. Like I said before he seemed more at ease. I guess that I didn't stink today because he wasn't covering his nose up. But I didn't even stink last week!

My thoughts came to a halt when the boy next to me cleared his throat.

This better be good…

"Hi," he hesitated, "Um, I'm Tristan Cullen, you must be Rory Gilmore."

That's it?! That's all he has to say? This is completely unbelievable – I couldn't believe this, that's what makes this unbelievable because I can't believe it – Now I'm ranting while the gorgeous god besides me is staring at me…its almost as if he was trying to hear what I was thinking.

"Yup, that's me," I say, almost a bit too cold.

"Listen," he continues, "I also wanted to apologize for the way I acted last week--"

"Apology accepted," I snapped.

I couldn't believe that he was being so nice. He was such a weird ass last week and this week he's Dr. Jekyll. This boy is just confusing me more and more.

I tried so hard not to look at him, but I did – he looked so taken aback.

"Is everything okay?"

Oh he did not just ask me that! This boy had some nerve!

"Of course," I say, hopefully he caught the sarcasm, "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"It just seemed--"

"Oh I'm sorry," I cut him off, "Was I being rude? I was, wasn't I?" I answer my own rhetorical question.

He doesn't say anything; he lowers his head and smirks.

"I might just disappear for a week and when I come back I'll be really nice."

I was being rude and I felt really bad, but I just couldn't help it. This boy sitting besides me is nothing like the one who was sitting besides me last week. Yeah they both look exactly the say. They both have amazing bodies, tousled blonde hair, sexy lips, pale skin – but one boy was night and the other boy was day.

"So I guess I'm not forgiven," he chuckled.

"You disappeared," I tell him, ignoring his light and easy-going mood.

That statement turned his features serious, "I had some things…some personal family things to take care of."

I nod my head, "But your family was in school."

Something flashed before his eyes; it was too quick to know exactly what it was, "I had to take care of something, so that I could take care of my family," he spoke as he tried to keep his cool.

"Mhmm," I obviously wasn't buying what he was selling me.

He clenched and unclenched his fists that were restlessly resting on the lab table, "What is your problem?"

My head turned to face him so fast, I thought I gave myself whiplash, "My problem?!"

"Yeah," he challenged me.

"You're my problem…I thought that was obvious. But the real question here, _Tristan_, is what is _your_ problem?"

My eyes were on his until I heard some kid sitting at the table next to mine gasp.

"Is there a problem?" I asked as I stared at the boy sitting at the adjacent table. I think I made it obvious that I was annoyed and I wouldn't be retaining it.

"He's shocked that you're speaking to me the way you are," Tristan had leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. I couldn't fight the shiver that ran through my body. I hoped that he didn't notice.

"Why?" I practically breathed out; his close proximity was making it hard for me to breathe or even focus.

"No one talks to me like that," his breath tickled my neck as he spoke.

"From what I've heard, no one talks to you, period."

He puts distance in between us once again by going to his side of the table, "Touché."

"Alright class, if you would all kindly turn to page two eighteen, we will begin with the first task on my agenda," the teacher said as he easily shattered out conversation.

I made sure not to look at him for the rest of the period.

It was really hard.

* * *

I stuffed my books back into my yellow book bag, zipped it up and headed for the door. I did this all without glancing once at the boy next to me – I was proud of myself.

Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough to escape from him all together; he got me at my locker. I knew I should have just carried my stupid books to gym.

"Listen," he said as he leaned against the row of lockers that neighbored mine, "We have a few months of school left and seeing as how we're going to be seeing each other everyday and sitting next to one another, I just thought that we could be civil to one another."

"Fine," I say as I practically throw my books into my locker.

"That's not convincing me that you're at least going to try," he sighed; he was obviously frustrated. Serves him right.

I shut my locker, a bit harder than I intended to, and face him, "I don't even know you," I tell him, "So if I want to hold a grudge for the way you acted last week, I'm going to hold my grudge."

I think I was hearing things because I could swear I heard him growl, "You're right, you don't know me, and its better that you never do."

Those were the last words that he spoke to me before he turned away from me and angrily made his way down the hall.

I glared angrily at his back. How can someone that I barely even know upset me so much? He had gotten under my skin and unless I did something about it, that was where he was going to be staying.

I quickly followed after him and called his name. When he didn't stop or answer me, I reached out to grab his arm, but the way his arms were swinging as he walked I grabbed onto his hand.

The second our hands connected he stopped; it was so sudden that I nearly collided into him. But my mind wasn't on that, it was on what I felt when I touched his hand. It was so cold.

Ice, almost.

He looked down at me and saw the shock in my eyes.

He yanked his hand out of my grasp and snarls, "Don't touch me."

Tristan glared at me before he once again turned away from me and continued on his way down the hall to his next class.

I stood still.

I just couldn't move.

But the ringing of the bell knocked me out of my trance.

Gym.

I was late for gym.

* * *

AN: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I really got into writing the conversation between Tristan and Rory…I promise it will get more complex.

Hopefully this chapter proved that I will be able to put my own ideas and words into this fic.

As usual, please read and review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I stared.

I was full-blown staring at their table.

My mom always told me that it was not polite to stare and that it was extremely rude to do so – but it was obvious that I didn't care. I just continue to stare. Actually, it was more of a glare than a stare. I just couldn't help myself. That boy had gotten under my skin and got so cozy that he decided to make his stay permanent.

I wasn't even trying to be discreet about it.

I just stared.

In my opinion, he stood out like a sore thumb; his siblings all seemed content and at ease, except for him. They were chatting amongst themselves and then there was Tristan…brooding by himself.

I want to smack him…I really do. I just feel like it.

It's been two days after our little heated confrontation, and after he told me not to touch him, he never spoke to me…again.

He hasn't even looked at me.

I want to talk to him so badly – I have no idea what is wrong with me. I must be insane to ever want to look his way again, but seeing as how my mom is crazy, I wouldn't be surprised if I were a tad bit on the mental side.

"If you're going to continue to stare, you mind as well go talk to him," Louise's voice broke me out of my deep and intense thoughts.

Trying to fight the blush that was threatening to show itself on my face, I stuttered, "I'm not staring."

She basically snorted at me, "Yeah, and I'm not a blonde."

"Oh we all know that you're a blonde," Paris told her seriously even though Louise was being sarcastic. These three girls together were hilarious.

Louise ignored Paris's remark and spoke to me, "You're one of the lucky that got anything out of him. I say you take your advantages and ride with them."

"Yeah, but if you heard correctly, the things that were exchanged between the two of us weren't exactly friendly."

The blonde carelessly waved her perfectly manicured hand around dismissing my comment, "Just tell him you were pmsing, I'm sure he'll understand – I mean, he lives with two other girls so…"

"You're insane," I casually state.

She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, "I know," she tells me with a sultry chuckle – I don't even want to know what she's thinking.

Like I said before, I really want to talk to him, and I promise that I will be nice because, honestly, I don't even know the guy.

"Do it," Maddie told me with a knowing smile.

I took a deep breath…and then I exhaled – after taking another deep breath, I held it and rose from my seat. Giving the girls one final look, I pushed myself away from the table and began to, slowly, make my way over to the Cullens.

As I was making my way over to their table, I just prayed to the heavenly Gods above that I didn't trip and make a fool of myself. Knowing my luck that was exactly what was going to happen.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I got nervous, I discreetly took a look at my surroundings and realized that nearly every pair of eyes in the lunch room were settled on me. Every single one of them…but Tristan's.

I was determined to get on his good side. The main reason for this being, is that I honestly believe that I did nothing wrong. The way he acted with me, I acted with him – I know that two wrongs don't make a right, but I didn't care.

Arriving at their table I exhaled the breath that I had been holding in, and I smiled, but not too big because I didn't want them thinking I was a freak, "Hi."

"I win!" The muscular one, Emmet, excitedly shouted.

"Damn it," Jasper cursed under his breath.

"You guys are so immature," the beautiful Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Agreed," the small pixie whose name was Alice said. She then turned her attention on me, "Ignore those immature boys, by the way, I'm Alice. You're Rory, right?" she beamed at me. Wow. I couldn't believe how completely gorgeous this family was.

I nodded my head; my nerves got to me and I was afraid that my voice would betray me and make me look like an idiot.

"Thank you, Rory," Emmet broadly smiled, "Because of you coming over here when you did, I am now a hundred dollars richer!"

"Does that mean I get a portion of the profits?" I asked and as soon as those words came out of my mouth I was completely shocked.

"As soon as Jasper here pays up," he laughed as he slapped his brother on the shoulder.

Rosalie figured it was the right time to cut to the chase. She smiled, "Did you want to join us or…" she trailed off as her eyes settled on Tristan, the smile was still playing on her lips.

I figured now was about the right time to talk, "Actually, I wanted to talk to Tristan."

As I said this, Tristan still hadn't looked at me; his gaze was focused on something across the room.

"Tristan," I say his name, "Can we talk?"

Finally he focuses his attention on me as a smirk begins to play on his lips, "Are you going to be as nice to me as you were to them?"

He was taunting me; mocking me.

But I kept my cool – I had made a promise to myself that I would not be mean to him… I keep my promises.

"Monkey see, monkey do," I wisely tell him; if he was going to be nice to me then, I was going to be nice to him. And I'm glad I did because he broadly smiled at me showing me his perfect white smile.

I think he just dazzled me.

Trying to calm my beating heart, I was about to speak again, but the bell rang letting us know that sixth period was over.

He stood up from the table and soon the other members of his family did the same, "I'm sure you'll continue this next period," he told me, "Am I right?"

All that I was able to do was give him a silent nod.

He threw me another smirk and made his way passed me. Rosalie was the next to pass, following Emmett, "If your locker acts up again, come find me," he tells me with a chuckle.

Next was Jasper and then Alice that went to make their way passed me. But before she followed her siblings and went on her own seventh period class, she stopped and talked to me.

"Don't be too hard on him," she tells me with a kind, soft smile, "He'll come around; I can see – feel it."

Once the Cullens had scattered, I came to a realization. The Chilton students didn't waste time beating around the bush. These kids were straight forward and told you exactly what they were thinking.

* * *

I'm furious.

Actually, I think the word 'furious' is an understatement, but right now, I'm so furious that I can't think of a bigger or better word for the way I'm feeling.

He said that I was going to be able to talk to him in Biology. But guess what…he wasn't there! He skipped! I don't know if he was a no-show because we watched some boring cell-diversion video or because he was avoiding me and he really didn't want to talk to me.

I tried not to let Tristan affect me. I just angrily slung my backpack over my shoulders, slammed my locker and headed out of hell. A scowl settled onto my face as I made my way through the parking lot and to where the Jeep was parked.

Removing my yellow backpack from my shoulders I placed it on the hood of the car so that I can easily look for my keys. Being the klutz that I am, my bag managed to slip out of my grasp and slid its way off the Jeep's hood spilling most of my books.

Terrific.

Huffing, I bent down to retrieve the spilled contents. I was tempted to leave them there, I was tempted to get in the car, drive away and never return ever, but then I remembered that I had a Hamlet test tomorrow that was worth forty percent of my grade so I just picked up my books.

As I was gathering up my belongings, I felt someone's eyes burning a hole through me. Without looking I knew who it was.

Lifting my head my eyes settled on his. He was across the parking lot leaning against his Porsche. His sister, Alice, was talking to him, but it didn't seem as if he was listening. He just looked at me. It seemed to me as if he was having some type of internal battle.

Ugh!

This boy made my blood boil. I gave him one final glare and then I went back to gathering the rest of my stuff.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an Escalade's blaring car horn pierced through the parking lot.

I froze…the driver of the car had lost control of the massive vehicle, after another car cut him off, and was now mere yards away from me!

I wanted to move, to run, but I couldn't. Why couldn't I move to save my life?

I'm horrified. The S.U.V. is feet away. I can barely breathe. I'm about to die—

This was the end.

But I'm not dead.

Tristan had appeared. He was crouched down in front of me. One of his arms were securely wrapped around my waist, bringing me closer into him as his other arm stopped the black truck from killing me. He had stopped the massive vehicle by simply putting his arm out in front of him.

There wasn't a single scratch on me, but I couldn't say the same for the black truck. Where Tristan's hand collided with the Escalade, there was now a massive dent.

Once the car was stopped, he looked at me. His face was inches away from mine. His eyes swept over my body to make sure that no damage was done. After making sure that I was alright, his piercing blue eyes boar into mine. He looked so afraid, so worried.

I just wanted to hold him and make everything better. I wanted to thank him, but I couldn't speak.

I was in shock and I could barely breathe.

"Don't hate me," he whispered to me, his voice full of pain.

I wasn't able to reply. He gently removes himself from me and before I knew it, he jumped over the Jeep and escapes the commotion that was slowly surrounding around me.

That's the last thing I remember before everything goes black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Sweetie, I just really wish that you'd take it easy," my mom's voice rang through the kitchen, "people will understand if you don't go to school today—I mean, you were almost hit by a car."

"Exactly," I tell her after taking a bite of my pop-tart, "_Almost_."

"Kid, stay home," she almost ordered me.

"Can't, I have a Hamlet test that I'm ready for, besides, I'm perfectly fine."

"I forbid you to go to school," my mom was trying so hard to be stern.

"That's illegal!' I said feigning to be appalled as I shoved the rest of my strawberry-filled breakfast food in my mouth.

"So? Since when do you know me to do anything legal?" Did she really want me to answer that question? "Do you remember your eighth birthday party?"

"Oh my goodness – You are shameless. I still can't believe you spiked the punch."

"Your friends needed to loosen up – they were so boring!"

"And then you blamed it on old man Harrington once the kids started getting tipsy."

My mother closed her eyes, "God bless his soul."

I stood up and grabbed my book bag, "Well it was nice chatting with you, but I have to get to school."

"Rory, you were in the hospital," she just had to play dirty.

"For no reason! I was fine – I am fine. The car didn't even touch me--"

"Oh I see," it must have dawned on her, "You want to go see you knight in shining armor."

My damn cheeks heated up. My mother was right.

Of course I wanted to see Tristan; I had so many questions running through my mind. The most basic question was how did he stop the truck? I mean all I saw him do was stretch out his hand out in front of him and the massive car came to a stop. I can't say that there wasn't a scratch on it because there was a massive dent where Tristan's hand collided with it.

The other crazy thing was that he got to me so fast. The last time I saw him, he was leaning against his car, all the way across the lot, talking to his sister. And then when I looked back down at the books on the ground that I had dropped, that's when I heard the screeching car and that was when Tristan appeared crouching in front of me; protecting me and saving me life.

My mother's voice brought me back into the real world, "Rory, guess what?" her craziness had begun, "While you were away in lala land, Chilton called. They said that something terrible has taken place. Headmaster Charleston has been kidnapped! One of those old-fashioned potato sacks was pulled over his head and he was dragged out of the fancy office kicking and screaming! There is no school until the beloved headmaster is returned to his rightful place."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her crazy antics, "I'm going to school mom."

"But--"

"But nothing, I'll see you later," I began to make my way to the front door, I had a bus to catch.

"You are a terrible daughter," my mom jested.

I pretended to be shocked and joked, "I was nearly hit by a car yesterday; I could have died…and you're telling me that I'm a terrible daughter? Wow. You will never seize to amaze me."

It was so much fun pulling her leg.

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you too."

A small smile settled on my lips as I walked to the bus stop that was situated in out town square.

* * *

"What spell have you casted on Tristan and can I have it?" Louise asked me as she took the seat beside me in our English class. Paris and Madeline also took their seats as they discreetly listened to what I had to say.

"What are you talking about?" I asked uncomfortably as I shifted in my seat.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Gilmore," Louise rolled her eyes impatiently at me, "Before you, he never gave anyone a second look and then yesterday he throws himself in front of a car and pushes you out the way. And the way he looks at you; like he wants to eat you up – if only he looked at me like that," the last part she said to herself, but we had heard.

"You're speaking nonsense," I say trying to end the awkward conversation.

"I'm speaking the truth," she counters.

"But--"

"But nothing," she stops me, "That boy wants you; you should take advantage of it."

"I'm not that kind of girl, Louise," I try to explain to her. I'm not the type to throw myself at a guy the second that he shows slight interest in me – Not that I think that Tristan is showing interest in me. He saved my life, yes. But that boy is hot and cold with me. I dedicate Kate Perry's song to him.

"Come on Rory, you don't honestly believe that he is not interested in you, do you?" twisted around from her seat in front of me and faced me.

"I honestly do," I told the three girls.

"Well he does," Louise said before Mr. Medina walked in and announced to the class that the Hamlet test was about to begin.

I cleared my desk and my mind as I tried to focus on the test that was just passed back to me, but I couldn't completely get Tristan out of my head.

There was no way that the girls were right. He did not like me. I just won't believe it. I'm not going to set myself up to be disappointed. In my opinion, there is no way that someone like Tristan…so perfect, would ever be interested in me.

Never.

* * *

I stood in front of my biology class contemplating whether or not I should enter.

I didn't want to go, yet I have never in my life skipped a class.

Shaking my head at how ridiculous I was being, I took a step forward, determined to go to class. But then giving it a quick second thought, I took the step back.

"You going to skip?" I heard him chuckle from behind me.

At first when I heard him, I instantly wondered where he came from, but after what happened yesterday in the parking lot, I decided that there was no point asking myself questions because I didn't know that answers to them.

Only one person knew them, and I was planning on asking him.

"Were you reading my mind?" I asked him as I tried to keep my nerves down.

"If only you knew what I was trying to do," he told me with such raw emotion that I felt my heart swell.

"How about you tell me," I say to him after I muster up all of the courage that was inside of me.

We're standing face-to-face at this point.

"Cant," was all he said as he shoves his hands deep in his pants pockets.

"Why?'

"Because."

"Because what?"

"You don't give up do you?" he grinned.

"Nope."

"I figured."

"I'm sure that you've also figured that I'm going to eventually ask you about what happened yesterday," I told him.

Confusion washed over him, "What happened yesterday?"

"You're kidding right?"

"I don't kid."

"What happened yesterday in the parking lot?" I asked him cutting to the chase – I wasn't in the mood to be playing his little games.

"Nothing," he answered, "All I did was push you out of the way."

"No you didn't," I quickly argued.

"I didn't?"

"You didn't push me anywhere, you appeared in front of me, and you pushed _the car_ out of the way," I told him assertively.

"Rory, you hit your head--"

"No, I didn't. I know what I saw--"

"No one will believe you," he cut me off with a fire burning in his eyes.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," I quietly tell him, meaning every word.

"Look, can't you just thank me and let it go?" he asked impatient and annoyed.

And then it hit me, I never thanked him for saving my life.

"Thank you," I gratefully tell him, "But no."

"You're impossible," he huffed as he looked down the now deserted hallway.

"Thank you I beam at him, "I want to be a journalist."

"You'll be good at it."

"Is that sarcasm?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," he smiled, showing me his pearly white teeth. He then tells me, "Seeing as how we're about fifteen minutes late, we mind as well just skip."

"Together?" I ask, feeling completely stupid once the word left my mouth.

"Yeah," he looks a bit hopeful. And as he sees me contemplating on whether or not I should go, he says, "Come on, I won't bite," he flashed me his teeth with a bright smile, "Or at least I'll try not to."

I couldn't help but feel as if there was an underlying meaning to his promise.

Pushing the feeling aside I accept his request, "As long as you try," I say smiling up at him.

Something was drawing me into this boy. I didn't know exactly what it was and at that moment I didn't care. But I was going to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" I ask Tristan after taking a bite of my juicy, bacon, cheese burger.

We were seated in a booth, one across from the other, at a diner right outside of Hartford.

"I'm sure," he assures me and then his smile transforms into a smirk, "Besides, after watching you eat, I would have lost my appetite."

"My eating isn't that repulsing, is it?" I asked him a bit embarrassed as I feel my cheeks heating up.

"No, it's not," he tells me with all sincerity, "It's comforting to see a girl eat."

I nodded my head; no idea came to mind as to how I should respond to that comment, "So you're sure you don't want any? I feel so greedy."

"Just eat," he told me sternly, but kindly.

"I mean, you're sure? Because I never see you eat," I tell him, "at lunch, you always have food out in front of you, but all you do is play around with it and never eat it."

"Miss Gilmore, are you stalking me?" he smirks, but it seems as if he is trying to cover something up; could he be worried?

"No," I quickly say, "But--"

"I'm on a strict diet," he tells me, he then lifts up his button-down uniform shirt and exposes to me his well-defined abdominal muscles: I nearly choked on my burger, "Do you think I got this Greek god body by scarfing down burgers?"

Did he just insinuate that I was fat?

"Are you saying that I'm fat?" I asked him; I wasn't so much offended, as I was shocked.

"Absolutely not!" he practically declared, "How does your mind work?" I heard him say, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear; it was barely above a whisper.

"Just checking," I smile at him as I place the last bite of my burger in my mouth.

"So, you ready to go?" he asks me as he stretches with his hands up and above his head. As he does this, his shirt ever so slowly rises up and exposes to me his pale, silky, smooth abs once again.

I must have stopped breathing.

"Rory, Rory, Rory?" he says my name trying to get my attention. Once he had my undivided attention, again, he asks me in all seriousness, "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," I blush.

"Liar."

I remained silent.

"I can almost see your mind working; I just wish I could hear what it was thinking."

What did he just say?

"Excuse me?" he looked like a deer caught in headlights; he spoke too much.

"Nothing," he tells me. As his good mood vanished, the broody and tense Tristan returned. He then abruptly stands up and I see him holding his wallet – I didn't see him take that out—he then hastily throws some money on the table and makes his way out of the small, quaint diner.

It takes me a second or two to register everything that just happened. And after I do so, I become really upset…pissed almost.

I angrily rise out of the booth and make my way out of the diner to where we parked the car.

I saw him leaning against his Porsche, with his hands in his pockets, seething.

Seething!

"What is wrong with you?" I ask him as it takes every ounce of me to control my anger.

"What's wrong with me?" he repeats my question, "The question to be asked here is that's wrong with you?!"

"Are you serious?!" I yell, "You're the one who needs to be locked up in an insane asylum, and you're telling me there's something wrong with me?"

"Why can't you just drop something, when someone tells you to leave well enough alone?" he curiously asked me, but his attitude was still evident in his voice.

"Because I know that you're hiding something, and I'm determined to get to the bottom of it," I honestly tell him; it would be useless to hold things back.

"Well have fun digging, detective, because I'll never tell you," he informs me with an eerie calmness.

"So you are hiding something," I say with triumph, and then a smirk makes its way up to my lips, "And by the way, you won't have to tell me because I'll figure it out."

"I hope you don't," he confesses. He looks so worried and sad and worn-out."

"Why?" I asked him, "It's not like whatever it is that you're hiding is bad."

"How can you be so sure?" he asks me, completely interested in what I was going to say.

"Because you're not bad: You're a bit mental, but you're also caring, and sensitive, and also thoughtful."

"That means nothing," he spats out.

"It does to me," at this point my anger had dissolved and I was intently staring at the vulnerable boy who was now standing in front of me, mere inches away.

He lets out a sigh, "Come on," he gently tells me, "I'll take you home."

"Tristan," I say his name, nearly whining.

"Please," was all he says; his eyes pleading with mine.

"Fine," I huff as I get into the passenger seat as he holds out the door open for me. He gently shuts the door and before I knew it he had opened the driver's side door and settled himself in, "But just so you know," I tell him, "don't consider the subject dropped."

"I know not to get my hopes up," he smirks at me.

So infuriating.

* * *

AN: Very short…I know, could you guys ever forgive me? I'm sure you'll all find it in your hearts to do so. And when you do…REVIEW!!!!!!!


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